


Dancing in the Rain of Descending Ash

by The Monster Lady (VisceraNight)



Series: A Story of Crushed Velvet, Candle Wax, and Dried Up Flowers [1]
Category: Castlevania (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, POV Second Person, Reader-Insert, Romance, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:40:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24071551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VisceraNight/pseuds/The%20Monster%20Lady
Summary: You get cheated on at your ex's wedding, and due to a convoluted set of circumstances, you're now fake-engaged to the other bride's ex.
Relationships: Carmilla (Castlevania)/Reader
Series: A Story of Crushed Velvet, Candle Wax, and Dried Up Flowers [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2068530
Comments: 14
Kudos: 80





	1. This Night Has Only Just Begun

**Author's Note:**

> It's mentioned in this chapter that Reader is currently dating Godbrand, but that ends pretty quickly when he sneaks off to cheat on you. (Sorry if ya don't like that, but the whole premise of the fic is that you and Carmilla get together after you were both cheated on by your dates at your exes' wedding.)
> 
> The song mentioned/quoted in this chapter is "Beautiful Thieves" by AFI. Fic title and chapter titles are also AFI lyrics.

~ Dancing in the Rain of Descending Ash ~

Going to your ex's wedding should have been no big deal, even if you were bringing your new boyfriend. You and your ex are still on good terms, you just didn't work out as a couple.

Instead, it turned out that the new boyfriend was a horny asshole who ditched you in the middle of the wedding to hook up with another horny asshole, which is how you ended up accidentally getting fake-engaged to the other bride's ex, but you're getting ahead of yourself here... now, back to the wedding...

* * *

"Single ladies, come up here! Get ready to catch the bouquet! Come on, single ladies! And guys who are here with guys, whichever of you's not trying to catch the garter, get up here! If you're not married, get up here!"

The DJ sounds annoyingly cheerful, and you think he's having entirely too much fun with this. You stay back from the crowd, even though technically you should be up there, too.

You wonder where the hell Godbrand wandered off to. A Viking shouldn't be tough to spot in this crowd, especially since he wore his _good_ armor to the wedding, the one with the horned helmet and everything. He's probably still asleep in his seat, or something. He dozed off during the ceremony and you're not sure he even followed you to the reception hall even though you woke him up.

The bouquet is tossed, and lands squarely on the chest of a pretty vampire with long white hair, who looks shocked at this turn of events and doesn't make a move to actually catch the thing until it's almost too late, and then she fumbles it badly. The flowers land in a crumpled heap on the floor at her feet, and the person next to her kneels to scoop them up and presses the mangled lump of stems into her arms. She awkwardly cradles the mess of plant parts as its last remaining petals drift down to join their brethren on the floor.

"OKAY!" the DJ roars into the mic. "Time for the garter toss! Ladies, clear the floor! Gentlemen, get up here! Unmarried dudes, nonbinary entities, and ladies who weren't up here for the bouquet, get up here!"

You intend to sit this part out too, but the DJ singles you out.

"You! Miss, over there, you weren't up here for the bouquet toss, were you? Are you married? No? Get up here!"

You sigh and move into the crowd gathered around to catch the garter. You don't particularly want to touch something that's been on your ex's thigh, but all you have to do is _not_ catch it, right? You're great at not catching things even when you're actually _trying_ to catch them, so it shouldn't be a problem, right?

You half-heartedly hold your hands out in front of yourself. The garter falls right into your hands. You didn't even move! You were just standing there! And yet, here it is, in your hands.

People around you are congratulating you. You still have no idea where your wayward boyfriend has wandered off to, or how you would explain to anyone why you stood up for the garter toss instead of the bouquet toss when you're here with a guy, if anyone asked.

The DJ calls for the dancefloor to be cleared and you back off with the rest of the crowd as he announces it's time for the brides' first dance.

You stand back with the rest of the crowd and awkwardly watch, feeling entirely out of place, as your ex dances with her new wife. Then each bride dances with her father, each to a different song. And then...

"Where are the ladies who caught the bouquet and the garter? Get up here with your partners! Ladies who caught the bouquet and the garter, and their partners, please make your way to the dancefloor!"

You make your way to the dancefloor. You look around for Godbrand, but you still don't see his dumb ass anywhere. Where the hell did he wander off to at a time like this?

You see the pretty vampire who caught the bouquet step out of the crowd at the opposite edge of the dancefloor. She is also glancing around for a partner who appears to be absent.

You cautiously shuffle a little further onto the dancefloor, toward the middle where the DJ stands. The pretty vampire catches sight of you, and begins to stride determinedly in your direction.

"Where are their partners? Wait, are they a couple?" the DJ asks. "One couple caught the bouquet _and_ the garter? Wow, if you weren't engaged already, I guess you are now! Ladies, what's your song?"

The pretty vampire has arrived at your side, and you shoot a panicked glance at her, but she she doesn't seem to have an answer to the DJ's question, either. Several inappropriate song choices run through your mind as you desperately try to think of a song that you like which actually sounds romantic.

"Beautiful Thieves?" is what finally pops out of your mouth, sounding more like a question.

You and the pretty vampire turn toward each other as the song starts to play, and for a moment you're not sure where to put your hands. Who's going to lead? Should you do this the modern way or the old-fashioned way?

The decision is made for you when she steps closer to you and slides her arms around your neck. You awkwardly wrap your arms around her waist. The soft silk of her dress feels good against the bare skin of your arms, and you shiver a little as she leads you in the awkward swaying slow dance that reminds you unpleasantly of high school.

The lyrics start, and you can't help singing along. This is one of your favorite songs, after all, even if it isn't particularly romantic. Okay, alright, it _is_ romantic, even if there is some murder and arson going on in the lyrics.

" _We can burn it and leave, for we are the beautiful thieves_."

The pretty vampire smiles down at you as you get lost in the music, your voice having risen high enough for other people to hear you over the volume of the music. And you'll be embarrassed as soon as you realize that everyone heard you, but for the moment you have a beautiful woman in your arms and she's smiling at you as you sing one of your favorite songs, and you're having _fun_.

Then the song ends and the DJ says "Everyone to the dancefloor!" and plays the Electric Slide, which you've never actually learned how to do.

As you and the pretty vampire both exit the dancefloor, security discreetly takes the two of you aside and informs you that your dates were caught having sex with each other in the bathroom and were kicked out of the wedding.

"I got cheated on at my ex's wedding... when did my life turn into a country song?"

You groan, covering your face with your hands.

The pretty vampire beside you drapes her arm over your shoulders and says, "Want to make it a romance novel?"

Your head jerks up in surprise and you stare at her for a long moment, your gaze caught on the playful curl of her lips as she smirks at you, before you manage to stutter out an inarticulate, "Wha- what?"

"Well," she says slowly. "Besides the lovely wedding couple, most of the people here don't know us, and after what happened with the bouquet and garter, everyone thinks we're engaged. We might as well stay together for the rest of the wedding, at least."

"Yeah, that makes sense, I guess," you say - more because you're enjoying than the feel of her arm around you than because it makes any kind of sense to pretend you're engaged to someone you just met, even if she is hot. Belatedly you add, "It would probably be helpful if I knew my fiancee's name..."

She leans over to whisper in your ear (way more dramatically than necessary, in your opinion), "I'm Carmilla."

~to be continued~


	2. Show Your Wounds, I'm Bored With Mine

~ Dancing in the Rain of Descending Ash ~

After a few more line dances, which you and Carmilla both sit out, and a slow song (which also reminds you unpleasantly of high school) that Carmilla insists you join her for, the music winds down.

The DJ announces that it's time to cut the cake. Which goes fine and is cute, you guess, although to be honest, you're paying more attention to the vampire beside you, who has her phone out and, if you're seeing things right, has just posted "LENORE'S A SLUT" in a group-chat.

The responses are near immediate: "Which one of your exes did she fuck THIS time?" and "Wait, didn't you two go to Laura's wedding together? Aren't you still there right now?"

Apparently the person she brought as her +1 wasn't a romantic partner.

Before Carmilla has finished typing her response, another reply pops up. This one says, "Please don't tell me she fucked Laura."

You nudge Carmilla's shoulder as a waiter approaches with plates of cake, and she hides her phone under the table until he's gone.

Still typing in all caps, either to indicate yelling or because she doesn't know how to turn capslock off (you don't know which is more likely), she sends: "NO SHE FUCKED LAURA'S WIFE'S EX'S BOYFRIEND AND GOT KICKED OUT OF THE WEDDING AND DUE TO SOME BULLSHIT NOW PEOPLE THINK I'M ENGAGED TO THE OTHER BRIDE'S EX".

Well, you think to yourself, now that you're aware that Carmilla also used to date one half of the wedding couple, this entire situation seems infinitely more ironic. Also her reaction to catching the bouquet makes a lot more sense.

After several replies agreeing that Lenore is, indeed, a slut and how dare she do that when she was supposed to be there as moral support, the group-chat's conversation turns to the subject of "the other bride's ex" - AKA _you_ \- and you look away, not wanting to know what they're saying about you, and focus on eating your slice of cake instead.

You've been to several weddings before, and usually the wedding cake tends to be dry and not taste that great, but apparently your ex and Laura really went all-out for their wedding, because this cake is actually decent. It's not the best you've ever had, but it's good. The cake is the perfect texture, and the icing is fluffy and practically melts on your tongue.

You're scraping the last of the icing off your plate with your fork when you notice that Carmilla has put her phone away and is watching you eat. Suddenly everything is awkward again.

Then Carmilla smiles and slides her plate toward you. Her cake is untouched.

"Here, you can have mine," she says.

"Thanks," you reply, not knowing what else to say. "Are you sure you don't want any of it, though?"

Which, you realize as soon as it's out of your mouth, is a stupid thing to ask a _vampire_.

"God no, I can't stand sugary things," she replies, scowling. "We didn't really have things like that back when I was human, and modern sweets have so _much_ sugar in them. The icing on that cake is probably almost pure sugar. My teeth hurt just thinking about it."

Oh. So vampires can actually consume things other than blood, if they want. You hadn't actually known that. But at least this revelation makes your question seem less stupid.

"But vampires can't get cavities, can they?" you say.

Carmilla sighs. "No, we can't. But having heightened senses makes the whole refined sugar thing worse than you can probably imagine."

"Yeah, well. I grew up eating this kind of stuff, so..."

You shrug.

As you start in on the second piece of cake, you idly wonder if Carmilla noticed you reading her group-chat messages earlier, but she doesn't say anything to you about it, so you guess that even if she did notice then she must not be bothered by it.

You're not really good with small talk, and Carmilla doesn't try to start up the conversation again, so you stay quiet and enjoy the piece of cake. You really can't imagine anything tasting too sweet. You practically live on caffeine and sugar. (Which might be part of the reason you're a nervous wreck all the time, but hey.)

You finish the cake and stack the plate on top of your other one. You wonder if there's somewhere you're supposed to take the empty plates or if the catering staff will take care of cleaning that up.

You glance over at Carmilla, wondering if you should try to talk to her again, but she's on her phone again, so you leave her alone and just sit there fidgeting awkwardly for a few minutes. You don't know what else to do. People are starting to drift back toward the dancefloor, but you don't feel like joining them.

A familiar voice calls your name and you look up to see your ex approaching you with a plate in her hand.

"I heard about your most-recent ex running off with Carmilla's ho-bag sister," she says, smiling at you, "and I thought maybe you could use some more cake."

Ah, she knows you too well.

"Thanks," you say, as she sets the plate down in front of you. "I don't know if I can eat another piece, though. I already had two. Carmilla gave me hers."

Carmilla glances up at the mention of her name, but turns her attention back to the screen of her phone immediately.

Belatedly you add, "And yeah, that jerk is definitely an ex, because the relationship was over the moment he cheated on me, whether he knows it yet or not."

"Well, as long as you're okay," she says, and awkwardly glances off toward the edge of the dancefloor, where Laura is waiting for her.

"Don't worry about me," you tell her, and manage a small awkward smile. "It's your wedding. Go have fun." As she starts to walk away, you call after her, "Thanks for the cake!"

Your ex waves to acknowledge your comment as she continues on her way to join her bride.

"So, it wasn't a bad breakup between you two, I take it?" Carmilla says.

She appears to have entirely lost interest in her phone for the moment, and you realize she _was_ paying attention to your conversation with your ex.

"Yeah," you say. "I mean, we're still friends and everything, just found out that we couldn't stand living together. Which is, you know, not exactly ideal in a long-term relationship."

"I see. It makes sense that she'd invite you to her wedding, then."

Which makes it sound like Carmilla doesn't know why _she_ was invited to this wedding.

"So, uhh... I guess that means you and Laura had a bad breakup?"

The words are out of your mouth before you have a chance to think better of saying it.

"It was awful," she says. "It's not like we had one major difference that couldn't be resolved or anything like that, it just slowly went bad. We were falling out of love with each other for years before either of us realized it, and she thought being turned into a vampire would solve all of our problems. And somehow she convinced me to do it. Technically it didn't solve anything, although it did give her the courage to actually break things off with me. Who knows how long we would have let it drag on, otherwise."

You have no idea how to respond to that. You're not good at talking about this kind of stuff, or comforting people.

Eventually you settle on, "Well, that sucks..."

"Well," Carmilla says, smirking, "if all of that hadn't happened, then I wouldn't be at this wedding now, where I met my new fiancee, now would I?"

And she puts her arm around you. (For the third time this evening, not that you're counting or anything.)

You sigh and lean against her shoulder.

~to be continued~


	3. The Radio Told Me To Stay

~ Dancing in the Rain of Descending Ash ~

You recognize the opening notes of Cotton Eye Joe as soon as it starts playing.

"Oh, I know this one," you say, hopping up from your seat.

You head to the dancefloor, and to your surprise, Carmilla follows you.

"Do you know the steps for this one?" you ask.

"No."

Carmilla frowns as she spots a group off to one side of the dancefloor who are doing a different dance than the bulk of the crowd.

Seeing what she's looking at, you shrug and say, "Regional variant."

The two of you hang back and watch the main crowd go through one repetition of the steps before joining in yourselves. Your vampire companion seems to have an easy enough time following along, although you do knock elbows with her once on a misstep.

By the time the song ends, you're breathless from the combination of dancing and shout-singing along with the lyrics. Carmilla, on the other hand, seems entirely composed. (Although you're not sure at this point whether vampires even need to breathe or not.) You probably look like a mess, flushed and out of breath from the exertion, your hairline damp with sweat. Meanwhile, the beautiful vampire beside you is absolutely flawless, with not even a single strand of hair out of place. You could almost be jealous, except she's smiling at you, showing just a hint of fang, and you feel lucky to be with her at all, even if it's just a stunt to save face after being ditched at your exes' wedding.

Over the opening notes of the next song, the DJ announces, "Brides and bridesmaids, the photographer is waiting for you at the gazebo outside to take the wedding pictures."

A small flock of people exit the dancefloor following this announcement.

The next song is another one you're familiar with, and you're fairly confident you know the steps, although you remember having trouble learning it way back when. Carmilla doesn't seem opposed to staying on the dancefloor with you, and you end up leading her through the steps a few times before joining the rest of the crowd.

You worry that she'll get lost, since this one has some tricky steps at one point, but apparently she's a quick learner, because she does fine. You're the one who ends up missing a step because you're spending more time glancing over at her than concentrating on what you're doing.

Thankfully, the song ends before you have a chance to really make a fool of yourself. The next song is a slow one, and you're grateful for the break. You're not the most athletic person in the world, even though you do have fun doing dances like that sometimes.

Your partner doesn't seem to mind that your nape is damp with sweat as she wraps her arms around your neck. You idly wonder why she doesn't try to lead you in a waltz or something, as the two of you do the awkward swaying slow dance of the modern era through the next few songs - the last of which isn't even a slow song. But she doesn't let go of you, so the two of you remain in each other's arms, while all the other couples around you break apart to either do a more energetic kind of dance or drift away from the dancefloor.

"I need a break after this," you say.

Your heels don't even qualify as _high_ , but being on your feet in these kind of shoes for too long is killer on your feet. As the song changes, the two of make your way from the dancefloor back to where you'd been sitting earlier. Carmilla flags down a waiter and requests a glass of water for you, which you drink gratefully.

She tracks down some napkins, which you use to blot the worst of the sweat from your face and neck. Your hair is still unpleasantly damp, but there's not much a few paper napkins can do about that.

Then, after the current song ends...

"Where are the ladies who caught the bouquet and the garter? You're needed outside for the wedding photos. Where are Camilla and... what's her name?" The DJ turns to ask another member of the event staff.

You don't hear the other person's answer, but you cringe when the DJ proceeds to mispronounce your name.

"Well, that's where the missing R from my name went," Carmilla says to you in an undertone.

You almost laugh, until you hear what the DJ says next.

"Where are the beautiful thieves?"

Oh god, you're never gonna live that one down. People are going to be calling you that forever... or at least until after your fake break-up with your fake fiancee.

Carmilla sighs and stands up.

"We'd better go."

"Why do we have to be in the wedding photos?" you whine as you follow her toward the exit.

As you approach the gazebo, the photographer's assistant asks, "Do you have a ring? Can we get a ring for them?" The second question is directed at some other member of the event staff who's standing off to the side.

Carmilla turns to you and asks, "What kind of ring do you want?"

"Uhhh..."

You're not really into the whole idea of rings anyway, but more importantly: the two of you are not actually engaged to each other! You can't let her actually give you a ring!

But everyone is starting at you expectantly and _oh shit, are they really going to go and get a ring right the fuck now, just for some themed photos at someone else's wedding, are you fucking kidding me?_

"Aren't you some kind of vampire queen?" you blurt out. "Shouldn't you, like, propose with a tiara or something?"

"Ooh," says the photographer. "Can we get them some flower crowns?"

The photographer's assistant scurries off to locate some floral arrangements that won't be particularly missed. There's nothing for you and Carmilla to do but wait as the photographer and his assistant braid the flower stems together to make flower crowns.

You idly scrunch the fabric of your skirt between your fingers, not even realizing that you're doing it until Carmilla's hand closes over yours.

"Stop that," she says, and gently disentangles your fingers from the cloth.

A slight frown creases her features as she smooths out the fabric, as if she's worried that you're going to wrinkle it.

"Sorry, habit," you tell her. An apology and an explanation all in just two words - very economical.

She quirks a brow. Ah, silent communication. Even more efficient than using any words at all, as long as the interlocutor manages to pick up on the signal.

"It's not even a nervous habit or anything. I just... fidget when I don't have anything to do with my hands." And now you're babbling. Great. Very attractive. You're not very social at the best of times, but your fake-fiancee is definitely witnessing the worst of your social skills today.

She catches your hand before you can start playing with your skirt again. Your other hand barely twitches before she's caught hold of it too, and now the two of you are standing facing each other, and she's holding both of your hands in hers, and you can feel a blush heating your cheeks.

Before anything else can happen, though, the photographer's assistant calls out that the flower crowns are ready.

Carmilla drops one of your hands, leading you by the other over to gazebo where the photo shoot is meant to take place.

After a series of very contrived poses in which it's supposed to look like Carmilla is proposing to you and then crowning you with one of the flower crowns, the photographer says, "Now let's get a picture of you two kissing!"

~to be continued~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ I'm from a region that does a non-standard version of the Cotton Eye Joe dance, which is why I bothered to put that detail in the fic.
> 
> I have no idea how long this fic is going to be... my brain is going wild with this plot bunny and I'm just along for the ride. XD


	4. Light Kisses Gracing Me

~ Dancing in the Rain of Descending Ash ~

"I don't think you need a picture of that!" you protest immediately.

Not that you entirely object to the idea of letting Carmilla kiss you... you just don't think your ex needs a picture of you doing it. Or hers, either, for that matter - especially since they'd parted on bad terms.

The photographer starts insisting that such a picture is, indeed, essential.

The next thing you know, your face is buried in your vampire companion's cleavage as she holds you protectively against her.

"She said 'no'!" Carmilla snaps.

You feel like you should probably do something or speak up for yourself or have some kind of reaction, but your brain has kind of short-circuited because, uh... boobs. Boobs right in your face. Your face is in actual physical contact with a beautiful woman's chest, and that woman is protecting and defending you, and holy shit, it's a good thing your mouth is obstructed right now or you'd have a hard time keeping yourself from asking her to be engaged to you for real. And not just because of her boobs (but let's be real here, they're pretty great, and you're not gonna complain about having your face pressed against the soft mounds), but she's defending your boundaries against the pushy photographer.

Not many people in your life have had your back like that, but this vampire who you've only known for an hour is the one playing white knight to your damsel in distress.

_Is she... hissing?_

She is. She is hissing. She is hissing at the photographer like an angry cat.

Then you hear what is unmistakably the sound of a camera going off. It's that ridiculously loud fake camera-shutter sound effect that smartphones use. The photographer has an old-fashioned camera hanging around his neck, but vampires can't be captured on traditional film due to the silver components (not to mention the silver emulsion in which film must be developed), so any pictures of Carmilla have to be taken digitally. Considering that one of the brides is also a vampire, you don't know why the dude bothered to bring an old-fashioned camera to this wedding in the first place anyway.

Somehow you don't think the brides will want a picture of Carmilla hissing and baring her fangs in the direction of the camera any more than they would appreciate a picture of her kissing you.

 _Is she baring her fangs?_ you wonder. _She must be_.

Out of curiosity, you tilt your head just enough to glance up at her face. And, yes, she is baring her fangs. Which is... kinda hot.

You can feel the blood rushing to your face, and somehow it seems less embarrassing to go back to hiding your face in her cleavage than it would to be caught staring at her fangs. Is it rude to stare at a vampire's fangs? Would she take that as an invitation to bite you?

Oh god, you have to stop that line of thought before you get turned on just thinking about it.

 _So maybe I have some fantasies involving vampire bites, leave me alone_ , you silently yell at your own brain.

"OK, good, we can use those shots," the photographer says. "It's not as romantic- _looking_ as a kiss would have been, but the overprotective feral vampire thing is an _aesthetic_."

You have no idea what kind of expression Carmilla is making right now, but she isn't hissing anymore. She's still holding you tightly against her, and your brain function has recovered enough to not be completely overwhelmed by the presence of a hot vampire's boobs right in your face, and you're wondering if the 'feral vampire aesthetic' comment offended her, because it sounded offensive to _you_ and you're not even a vampire. (Although perhaps you're more offended by the term 'aesthetic' than most people would think was normal. Thanks, tumblr, for that.)

She's still holding onto you, and you start to wonder what's keeping her from letting go. You're pretty sure trying to talk would end up making this situation a lot more embarrassing than it needs to be for everyone involved. Not that the idea of getting a mouthful of silk-covered titty sounds unappealing to you, although perhaps not in this exact context, and oh god, you need to stop thinking about things like that before-

"They're gone," Carmilla says, and finally loosens her grip on you.

You lift your head and look around. The photographer, assistant, and various other event staff have all vacated the area.

You realize you're still pressed against Carmilla even though she's let go of you.

"Sorry," you blurt out, as you awkwardly stumble a few steps back.

She reaches out to steady you.

"It's alright," she says. "It's not your fault."

It takes you a moment to realize that she must think you're apologizing for something other than not pulling out of the embrace as soon as possible (which is what you _were_ apologizing for).

As she slides her arm around your waist and starts to lead you back to the reception hall, you stammer out, "Thanks. I mean, thank you for... protecting me." And, god, this is so awkward, and if it were possible to be blushing any harder at this point, you probably would be, but you're pretty sure like 95% of your blood must be in your face already.

She glances down at you with a slightly amused expression.

"Not that I'd have anything against letting you kiss me if you _wanted_ to, I just don't think our exes need a picture of that," you babble out. "I mean, I wouldn't want to do it in front a bunch of people, either, anyway, but..." You trail off awkwardly.

"You want me to kiss you?"

You glance at her but don't answer. You're a nervous wreck right now, and even though you were just babbling like a fool, you can't even manage to get out a simple answer right now.

Carmilla's arm drops from your waist and she moves to stand in front of you. She brings one hand up to cup your cheek and tilts your face up so you'll look at her.

"Do you want me to kiss you?" she asks softly.

And you do, you really do, but your throat is dry and your tongue feels like it's glued to the roof of your mouth, and if she would just go ahead and kiss you then maybe your salivary glands would start working again and bring some moisture to your mouth, and maybe then you could speak.

Surely she must have some sense of your internal panic. Those bright blue eyes are locked on you so intently as you struggle to speak.

Suddenly, you remember that nonverbal communication exists. You nod.

"You do want me to kiss you?" she asks once again to confirm.

You nod again.

Carmilla leans down and brushes her lips lightly against yours.

 _That's it?_ you wonder as she pulls away after what can't have been more than a few seconds of contact.

She doesn't quite manage to hide her expression of disgust before you see it, although she quickly schools her features into a more neutral expression.

"What?" you ask (so eloquently) as she moves her hand from your face to her own.

Frowning, Carmilla rubs at her mouth.

"Ugh, I can taste the sugar from that cake."

~to be continued~


	5. If Only Pure Sweetness Was Offered

~ Dancing in the Rain of Descending Ash ~

"No, no, don't cry," Carmilla says, a note of panic in her voice.

"I'm not crying," you say, scrubbing tears from your eyes with the back of your hand.

"You know I didn't mean-"

"I know! It's fine. I'm fine."

However, you're still rubbing at your eyes, stubbornly trying to stem the flood of tears. While you know that she was reacting to the lingering taste of overly-sweet icing on your lips, unfortunately your brain is reacting to _hot woman thinks I'm yucky_. And its response to that is, naturally, to start crying.

"Come here," she says.

And then, before you even have a chance to move, she is drawing you into her arms. She nuzzles the top of your head as you bury your face in the crook of her neck.

Your flower crown unfortunately gets crushed between your forehead and the sharp line of Carmilla's exposed collarbone, leaving streaks of pollen along her skin. You feel the flowers tumbling down your back and shoulders as the chain falls apart. Carmilla carefully extracts the remnants of crushed petals and twisted stems from where they're pressed between her skin and yours, before they have a chance to fall down her dress. Once that's done, she plucks the flower crown from her head and tosses it to the ground, next to the remnants of yours.

Her arms close around you once more, and she presses a soft kiss to the top of your head.

You barely have time to form the thought _her perfume smells good_ , before your tender moment is interrupted.

"Leave her alone, Carmilla."

You don't recognize the voice. You feel Carmilla tense up, but you're not sure whether she's reacting to the sound of the voice or what was said.

Of course, you don't _want_ Carmilla to leave you alone, and you let her know it by wrapping your arms around her waist.

"Why would I leave _my fiancee_ alone?" Carmilla says - her voice a teasing, silky purr - as she pulls you more firmly into her embrace. You can easily imagine the smug smile that is probably gracing her features at the moment, although you can't see her face.

"You two aren't actually engaged! You don't even know each other!"

"Oh? I'd say we've gotten to know each other quite well..."

You shudder in response as she trails her fingers lightly down your spine.

" _How dare you_ ," the other woman shrieks. (Which seems like an over-reaction, given that you don't even know her.) "How _dare_ you do this at my wedding, with my wife's _friend_!"

Ah. She must be Laura, then. (Which you would have figured out sooner if you'd actually looked at her, but your face is still buried against Carmilla's neck.) You can't help wondering whether Laura knows that you're her wife's ex-girlfriend, or thinks you're just a friend.

"Look," Carmilla snaps, any hint of amusement gone. "I didn't _know_ that Lenore was going to pull something so stupid or I would have brought one of my other sisters with me instead. I wasn't _trying_ to catch the bouquet, and we are trying _not_ to make a scene by going along with this ridiculous fake engagement, so why don't you just go back inside and enjoy the rest of your wedding reception, and leave us alone?"

"Why did you even come to my wedding?"

"You _invited_ me!"

Laura huffs out an annoyed sigh.

"That was my wife's idea. If she knew how horrible my relationship with you really was, she never would have suggested it."

At this pronouncement, Carmilla's body stiffens with rage. You feel her throat work under your cheek as she restrains herself from vocalizing the angry growl that builds within her chest.

You don't like the way that Laura is speaking to her, and you want to stand up for her the same way she did for you, but you don't feel like it's your place to get in the middle of their fight when you barely know either of them.

Not knowing what else to do, you nuzzle Carmilla's neck, hoping the small gesture will bring her some comfort. She relaxes slightly, and cuddles you closer.

With a tired sigh, she says, "What do you want, Laura?"

"I want you to leave."

"Fine."

Carmilla loosens her hold on you, but you still aren't quite ready to let her slip from your grasp, and it doesn't seem like she really wants to let go of you, either.

You lift your head, and see that Laura is still standing by the door to the reception hall, looking like an angry puff pastry in her frilly wedding gown. You spend several long, horrible seconds fighting down the urge to laugh after that thought.

"I'm ready to leave now, too," you say quietly to Carmilla.

After everything that's happened tonight, you're not really in the mood to spend any more time at this wedding.

Laura's expression darkens, but she turns and goes back inside without saying anything else to you or Carmilla. It takes you a few minutes to realize that she was waiting for you to follow her, and she obviously wasn't very happy about your decision to stay with Carmilla instead.

Ah, yes. Carmilla. The beautiful vampire who is still in your arms.

She does an awkward wriggle as she steps away from you, and plucks at the front of her dress.

"What's wrong?" you ask.

"It feels like I've got a flower petal in my corset."

There is an awkward pause for the few seconds it takes your brain to process that, and then you blurt out, "You're wearing a corset?"

"Yes," she replies, turning away from you slightly as she slips her fingers under the low neckline of her dress in an attempt to fish out the wayward petal. "Modern undergarments - _especially_ strapless bras - just don't have enough support, you know?"

"Is it antique?"

The question slips from your mouth before you have a chance to think better of it. Great. You've just asked a centuries-old vampire if her lingerie is antique. Real smooth.

"Yeah," she says distractedly.

"I'd like to see it."

She turns and shows you the crumpled flower petal clutched triumphantly between her fingertips, before realizing what you actually meant. Blood rushes to your face as her lips curve into a knowing smirk.

"Not on the first date," she teases, reaching out to run the flower petal across your cheek.

You counter with, "We're _engaged_."

You try to snatch the petal from her, but she flicks it away, letting it drift to the ground.

She laughs, and asks where you live. For a moment your mind blanks and you couldn't tell her your address if your life depended on it, because your first thought is that she's really going to strip for you.

Then you realize that she's asking because the two of you are leaving and she's going to take you home. _And not in the bad romance novel way_ , you remind yourself as you tell her where your house is.

~end of part 1~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After much internal debate, I've decided to end this fic here, at the end of the wedding.
> 
> Sequels are planned.


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